


A World Of Madness

by rubberbird



Category: Silent Hill, Silent Hill (Video Game Series)
Genre: Coercion, Extremely Dubious Consent, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-07
Updated: 2014-01-07
Packaged: 2018-01-07 21:36:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1124641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubberbird/pseuds/rubberbird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sewell uses his leverage over Murphy. Forcefully.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A World Of Madness

The first time it happened, the only thought he had was: _Jesus I’m stupid_. Stupid enough to believe there was a shred of humanity in Sewell, stupid enough to think a favour was a favour and not some fucking blood debt, stupid enough to not realise what was happening until he was cuffed to the sink in Sewell’s personal bathroom.

He wasn’t blind. And before tonight he hadn’t thought he was completely brainless either. He’d seen the guard watching him. He’d felt his hands on him more often than was decent between guard and inmate. He’d even let the guard flirt with him- Jesus Christ he’d flirted _back_ in the arrogant assumption that Sewell must have been a faggot guard he could wrap around his little finger.

He should have known making a deal with him was only going to end up with him getting fucked.

He wanted more than anything to scream for help. But he knew what the score was. Sewell was under the impression he’d done Murphy a pretty damn big service and now Murphy _owed_ him. If he was dumb enough to go tattling, he’d probably end up dead on the shower room floor too.

“That’s right, cupcake.” His mouth was close to his ear and hot breath touched his neck like a caress. “Bend over a little more for me.”

He guided Murphy with a hand on the small of his back until Murphy’s face was inches from the grimy mirror in front of him. He stared at his own face and then looked away. He didn’t want to see himself during this.

Sewell was breathing heavy as Murphy heard him fumbling around with his belt and zipper. Christ knew how long he’d been planning this. He had immense self-control. He wasn’t about to force himself on Murphy in his cell. This was practically fucking consensual. Even if Murphy hadn’t been handcuffed, he might as well have been. He couldn’t say no. It wasn’t an option. Sewell knew that only too well.

Murphy felt a sharp bite of cold air as his pyjamas and underwear were roughly yanked down around his knees. He inhaled unsteadily, leaning heavily on his elbows, his back aching from the position he was in.

Sewell held his hips, thumbs pressing uncomfortably into him. Murphy felt a small thrill of panic as Sewell’s length pressed against him. He was wet and felt impossibly large.

“Lube me up, you fucking asshole,” he hissed.

He looked up sharply into the mirror and saw Sewell smirking at him through his lust. “You’re a big boy, cupcake. I’m sure you can take it.”

Murphy’s alarm turned to rage. “You fucking- Ah! Fuck!”

The pain was intense and like nothing he had ever felt before. He groaned out in discomfit, dropping his head to his chest. Sewell didn’t even wait for him to adjust to the intrusion. He began to thrust in slow, deep movements, his hands keeping Murphy pinned in place so he couldn’t flinch away from his ministrations. Sewell’s panting against his neck was loud and strained. Every outtake of air was shuddery and bordered on a groan.

“Fuck,” Murphy whispered into thin air, eyes tight shut. The sensation was not so painful now, but he felt oddly stretched and open. It didn’t feel like his body was meant to be used like this- but some goddamn lube probably would have made some difference.

Sewell began to say obscene things into his neck that he didn’t think he was even fully conscious of. “That’s right, sugar,” he’d pant, voice close to a growl, “you’re taking me so beautifully. Such a good boy.”

Murphy’s stomach twisted in fury and he gritted his teeth. Being fucked in someone’s bathroom like a fucking rent boy was humiliating enough, but the sick bastard got off on talking dirty to him like he was his lover and not an inmate he was abusing.

Sewell’s thrusts became harder and Murphy began to ache again. The guard was close to coming, he could tell. He didn’t need his breathy little: “So close, cupcake-“ right into his ear to warn him.

His own cock was hanging limp between his legs, slapping uncomfortably against his thighs every time Sewell forced himself inside of him. He jolted in surprise when he felt Sewell’s lightly calloused fingers close around it and begin to rub.

Murphy made a sound between a protest and a moan. Jesus Christ the man was a fucking sadist. He was really going to make Murphy come while he was raping him?

“Jesus, you bastard,” he panted, hunching over the sink. The ministrations on his cock, the unsteady stroking and rubbing were making him hard and he couldn’t do a fucking thing about it.

“That feel good, cupcake?” Sewell hissed into his ear. “You like having my hand on your prick?”

Murphy growled in response, hands curling into fists, fingernails digging into his own flesh. He was going to come. He was going to come while that bastard was balls deep inside of him and he hated himself for it.

“Fu-uck-“ he choked out as Sewell forced him to orgasm. He came onto the tiles beneath him with a unceremonious splatter.

Sewell’s hand returned to his hip and he thrusted once, twice, three more times in sharp, short succession and he also came, his hot, copious seed spilling sickeningly inside of Murphy. He felt it spill down his thighs.

For a while, Murphy didn’t know how long, they were both silent and motionless: Sewell still buried up to the hilt inside of him and he hanging over the sink, staring at the grubby white porcelain. Sewell’s rough panting became slower and levelled out. He finally pulled out of Murphy and he heard him tucking himself back in and doing his pants and belt up.

Murphy struggled upright. He ass hurt and his legs felt weak. He had to wait for Sewell to pull his underwear and pyjamas back up, which he did with unnecessary slowness, hands traveling over Murphy’s thighs and hips with a new familiarity.

He uncuffed Murphy from the sink and he was finally able to stand up. His back gave a painful spasm from being bent over for so long. Sewell looked infuriatingly calm and put-together. He’d even slicked his hair back into place.

He looked Murphy up and down with an amused smirk. He gave a low whistle. “Holy shit, cupcake. Now you really do look like the prison whore. Clean yourself up, will you? It’s embarrassing.”

He gave Murphy’s cheek a little slap and went for the door. Murphy watched him go, considering how much shit he’d get into if he just strangled the fucker right there.

Sewell paused and looked over his shoulder. “And don’t take all day about it, alright, sugar? I’m a busy man.”

He left, closing the door with a snap behind him. Murphy turned back to the mirror to survey the damage and clean himself up the best he could.

 


End file.
